Clothe yourself in the full armor of God
and be able to withstand the Devil’s schemes;
know that he’s only the father of lies,
looking to destroy your earthly dreams.

Cover yourself with Christ’s Breastplate
of Righteousness and protect your torn heart;
your essence has been purchased for His Kingdom,
meaning that you’re meant… to be set apart.

Gird your waist with the Belt of Truth
and stand firm with integrity and honesty;  
don’t allow your flesh’s nature to interfere
with conditions that you need observe and see.

Shod your feet with the Gospel’s peace;
keep from searching for earthly trouble;
instead congregate with the Body of Christ
and focus on your faith becoming redoubled.

The ongoing battle is not with flesh and blood;
wield Faith’s Shield to quench life’s fiery darts.
Remember that the wiles of Satan are limited!
So outmaneuver him with your spiritual smarts.

Put on your Helmet of Salvation,
for the battles are within one’s mind.
Allow the Divine knowledge of The Word
to resonate with your spirit and find…

yourself continually praying in the spirit
and with understanding on all occasions.
Be alert to His transformational messages,
for upholding Godly principles and persuasions.

Resist the Devil now and he will flee;
endeavor to thwart the enemy’s attack;
be strong in the Lord with power of His might;
promises of victory have been already stacked.

For we don’t wage war with human methods and plans.
We use mighty weapons to knock down evil strongholds
and breakdown every proud argument that keeps people
from knowing God… as His Kingdom, continues to unfold.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Eph 2:2, 6:10-20; 1 Thes 5:5-8; Joel 2:12-13; Rom 4:5;
Jam 4:7; 2 Cor 10:3-5

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Towards-His-Unbounded-Glory/dp/1419650513/ref=sr11?s=books&ie;=UTF8&qid;=1388058560&sr;=1-1&keywords;=reaching+towards+his+unbounded+glory

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

O My Lord, greatly blessed are You!
I’m thankful and trying to express
the growing gratitude within my soul;
however, mere words lack the finesse

to exalt Your full grandeur… properly!
You are my sun and protective shield!
Let your righteousness flood my soul;
unto You alone, will my spirit yield.

Don’t let my ignorance and sad sighing
imply a lack of personal satisfaction;
I’m joyful and pleased from accepting-
Your Son’s, eternal gift of Salvation!

I’m humbled by Your grace and power;
Your wisdom defeats the inner violence
that seeks to isolate me from You;
quiet my thoughts with divine silence,

as I focus on our ongoing relationship.
Permit The Holy Spirit to blow over me
with a portion of Your sacred essence;
reveal the blessings that You foresee,

regarding my humbled heart and life;
make me sensitive to Your touch and will;
teach me to be productive with my time;
allow Your purpose for me- be fulfilled.
.
.
.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Phil 4:6; Psa 34, 84:10-12; 1 Thes 5:18

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

There was a time were there was a girl who wanted things but couldn't explain why. She was confused and depressed all the time and her body kept changing. Her parents never excepted who she has decided to become, so when she grew up it was hard to tell others who she now is. I am that girl. I wanted everything.
As I continue to grow up I learn new things. I have gone through so many different changes that sometimes I get very confused. I have been in many different relationships and most have not been healthy. There were a few different relationships that were good but I messed up by leaving. But there is only one person I can actually say I would get back with. He was the first person I can actually say was the first ZI ever loved and I know if he ever asked me back out I would leave the person I was with for him.
I'm in a program because apparently im too much to handle for my parents. Sometimes I feel neglected but i know i'm not. There are alot of people that are there for me even if it's not my parents. I am a very bubbly person. It hurts me ever more than a normal person will hurt when I get upset because depression makes everything worse than a normal person might feel. I say might because who really know what or how others feel. Somedays I wish I wasn't alive but then I think there would be no way anyone can see the world without them in it because what if the world didn't exist.
My relationships are always complicated because I get bored because I ****** up the onr relationship with someone that wasn't that bad. I listen to what other people were telling me instead of following what my heart wants. I think to myself what if I didn't break up with that person. Would my life be different if he was in it but as my boyfriend. Would I stay home with my mom and got my **** together sooner than I did. I just wonder if he still thought of me. I know he was a big part of my life when i was with him. I miss it. I miss being able to hug and hold him. I miss him in general.
But who cares about me anymore, not many. I'm usually on my own looking far into my future trying to piece the past together. Removing small parts of my past I want to forget but can't because I have been through so much there isn't much I can just forget. My past formed me into the person I am today and for that I can't forget my past. I like who I am today even if others don't. At Least I can see how much I have changed and made myself into a better person.
When I think of my past, i think off everything I have suffered and it hurts. But I have to do things the way I do or ill panic. Im very weird I bite. When some asks to fight me I growl at them and show my teeth. I'm not normal. Im literally like an animal. I do weird things. But I also am a very creative person when it comes to things. I have a good heart. Even tho I might do some strange crap here and there. I have done bad things but made up for them in the end.
I know i'm not the best but I do try my hardest. I just struggle knowing I have been in and out of programs since I was twelve. It's hard mainly growing up in places away from your family and that's where the depression and the bad behavior started. I have recognized that I started to act up and get all depressed when my dad and mom split up. I have struggled accepting the fact that they “will never ever ever get back together” yes I just quoted the taylor swift song lyrics. It upsets me but hey its life and you can't change the past but you can move toward the future.
When my parents split up my mom got with this guy that I hated with all my heart. And yes hate is a strong word but I hated him. He tried to replace my father and I didnt like that very much. My dad meant everything to me when I was younger and he still does to this day. After I started getting close to moms new boyfriend he did the unexpected. He went to take me out for ice cream down the street when it was dark out.
There was this shortcut in the woods and when we were halfway down the hill in the woods he pushed me down took off my pants and started touching me in places I didn't want touched. I started crying but he didnt stop. Then he put his head between my legs and started to eat me out and I was only 9 years old I didn't want that. I just was scared and I was too small to push him off. When I got home I was to scared to tell my because he told me not to and if you didn't listen to what you were told you'd get punished and after what he already did I was scared of what he would do again. Every day for a week he would go in my room late at night and touch me. But I was glad it was me and not my little sister so I put up with it.
Not long after he started to hit me and my little brother. One day he kicked my little brother in the back and slammed his head on the floor that was the day I took a chance grabbed a broom and whipped my moms boyfriend in the head. But it was just enough for my brother to get away but I was the next target. But that's not all that's just thes start. He put bruises all over my body but at least he stopped sexually touching me. That's all I cared about was keeping my siblings safe.
But even through those times my mom didn't do anything she let him hit us but she was scared too. One day he even pulled my little sister through a window because she punched my little brother I was so scared I ran upstairs to my neighbors house and told them and my neighbors boyfriend came to the rescue. A few months after he knelt on my chest I couldn't breathe but that was the one time my mom told him to get the ******* me. But once he got off me i ran outside in shorts and a tanktop and I ran to school with just socks on my feet and it was the middle of winter. That was the day my school called my dad and said that if he didnt come pick me up then with my siblings we were going to get taken away so my dad came and got us.
Few months after my 11th birthday my dad had a friend watch me when I was home sick. Everyone trusted him but then he molested me. I was sick but I took my blanket and ran to the bathroom and locked the door and waited for my dad to come home and I told my dad what happened and my dad freaked out. But christmas eve I told my mom and after that my mom took me home with her new boyfriend and never let me back to dads after that but I snook to see my dad after that because I didn't want to live with mom at all I didn't trust it after he last boyfriend. But can you blame me.

My missionary work, to an extent,
has been accomplished under grace;
most of the poetry I’ve composed
has been shared with the World,
with the intent of drawing others
towards The Kingdom and the face

of Christ, beloved Lord and Savior.
Pushed far out of my comfort zone,
I’ve taken this notion of identity,
that’s found solely in my Christ,
and pushed bravely forward with it-
at the dismay of brethren who bemoan

the label of Christian poet and author.
I can’t and won’t apologize for actions
taken to glorify God through evangelism;
Christ is the living Word; His Truth
courses through my spirit, as I explore
my Faith and understanding of Salvation.
.
.  
.
Author notes

Inspired by:
1 Thes 5:19 and

"A life fully lived out for Jesus is never a wasted life, because in it the true reward starts only the moment one dies, and from that time on wards the  dividend for the earthly investment they made continues to comes back without limit for the eternity that is ahead of them." —Abraham Israel

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.

Do you know what Christian Hope is?
Is it a proper, confident expectation
of future, good things, yet to come?
Are you fully grounded on the tenets
of Faith, as part of a holy nation?

Can you share the Gospel with others?
Why is Christ’s death considered news?
Is the work of God regenerating in you?
Do you know of the sacred promises given?
Are you living Life… with Faith infused?

Do you expect that Christ will return?
Have you dreamt of your body’s redemption?
Are you eagerly awaiting righteousness,
by Faith, through His Holy Spirit today?
Have you inherited Life via Salvation?

Regarding the sovereign grace of God,
can you understand its complete scope?
Have you discovered your divine purpose?
Is life moving you towards The Christ,
in the real direction of Joy and Hope?
.
.
.
Author notes

Inspired by:
Heb 6:11; 2 Thes 2:16; Col 1:23; 1 Pet 1:3;
Rom 5:2, 8:23, 15:13-14; *** 1:2, 2:13, 3:7;
Gal 5:5

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

{#1} *The Shadow has this great Confidence-=OF th Bright Light Behind HIM!!!   {#2}= Who voted for thes people in chargeand even ***** Times,,Geeez!     {#3}=  There aren't enough stars to Count,  to say or to Care.  There aren't enough grains of Sand to Count,  to Say,  To Care,,   To Send,  to Wish,  to Brighten"TO *YOU !    {#4} = Every handsome Knight should have his "Morning Sunrise",   SHE is Worthy of her Name,   a GOD given Brightness,   for HER Knight !   {#5"= The songs I write are Not just words on Paper,  but rather, the Very Melodies from My Heart !   _  Please"ENJOY these "ALLEGORICAL RAMBLINGS"   May they Bless YOU..in a Very Special Way!   _M

We’re not to vex or grieve the Holy Spirit;
instead, we need His anointing on our lives
to spiritually achieve personal victories
and that faith in God- is continually revived.

Being rooted and established in His Love,
we can be dispensers of the Spirit’s fruit-
Manifesting these traits on a daily basis
should be behind the desire of a Holy pursuit.

Peace, Patience, Love, Goodness, Faithfulness,
Joy, Kindness, Gentleness and Self-Control
enlighten the innermost core of our existence
with God’s consummate soothing of our souls.

Having these loving characteristics instilled,
demonstrates that we are indeed… spirit-filled!
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Eph 3:14-19,4:29-30; 1 Thes 5:19; Gal 5:22-23

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

Moving away from unholiness is attainable,
by modifying and monitoring your godless behavior.
Know that you’re called into fellowship with Him;
begin mirroring the traits of our blessed Savior.

For you can do all things through Christ,
who joyfully and faithfully strengthens His Children;
you have been given the necessary Biblical tools
for overcoming Life’s constant pressures of sin.

Turn away from impurity of thoughts and actions;
instead focus on Christ’s perfect righteousness;
find your identity now - in Him and His Kingdom;
remember that you’re always… called to holiness!
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
1 Thes 4:7; Heb 3:1; 2 Tim 1:9; Phil 4:13;
1 Pet 1:14-16

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

It just can’t be a coincidence,
that my origin is that of soil;
for it provides both fertility
and the strength for human toil.

Buried deep within my spirit is
Your garden, implanted with seeds;
once I’ve been tilled by You, Lord
I’ll meet one of Your Kingdom needs.

My life’s labor won’t go unrewarded,
for it’s scented with the perfume
of an authentic, Christian Faith.
Your words in me are a poetic bloom

that brings encouragement to others.
Will my humble life be as You planned?
O Lord, will Your expectations be met
with me still becoming… a glorious man?
.
.
.
Author notes

Inspired by:
Gen 2:7; 2 Cor 9:10; 2 Thes 1:3;
Col 2:6-7; Jer 17:7-8 and

One day when we come to a deeper understanding of The Word of God, we shall find the term “Man” more palatable than even the term “Children of God.” For we shall realize that God’s preordained plan and election is to obtain a glorious man. -Jacobs Adewale

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

What is the full depth of my inner soul?
How far does it fall short of infinity,
given the known limits of my being human?
Can all of the crevices, cracks, fissures,
scissures and abyss of the empty places
in my soul be filled when I desire Your Presence
to consume every void of my existence?
While complaining, gossiping, and rage
can grieve Your Holy Spirit, I’m only posing
these questions… to expand my understanding.
I’m thankful that You will never run out
of forgiveness, patience, love and grace.
Walking blind in the carnality of the flesh
will keep me as a pathetic, miserable Christian.
As one of Your sons, I’ve embraced Your principles
while striving towards my spiritual maturity.
On many occasions, I’ve tasted small portions
of Your eternal Peace, Joy and Righteousness.
Continue to gently lead me by Your Holy Spirit,
so that the empty places… have no sway over me.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Eph 3:16-19, 4:30-31; 1 Thes 5:19; John 14:23;
Rom 8:8-14; Deu 10:13

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

This sorrow compleats me
like fuel to the flames
you anger it feads me
I'll forever play you're games

I'm barried in kaos
and I not break free
or dig myself a little hole
so that I mat breed

I'm suffercated from you
you've swon thes bright eyes blind
now I'm invisabul

Without you
you're the only thing that's mine

this sorrow it is me...

O Lord, I continue to ache for Your heart of flesh!
Lovingly chastise me, with regard to improper attitudes;
my spirit will never freely soar in unity with You,
without understanding and a transcendental altitude.

Chasing earthly mirages is a waste of my precious time
and it will never satisfy or quench my unending thirst.
Living a dedicated life of self-gratification and pleasure,
won’t overcome this pain… that’s been repeatedly rehearsed.

Deep within my soul, I embrace Your genuine Love for me.
As a result, unwanted, dead things are compelled to fall away.
Concepts of selfishness, jealousy, discontentment, self-pity,
greed, addiction, and unforgiveness will no longer rule my days.

Lord, teach me to “take up my cross” daily without complaint;
Break the stony hardheartedness that hinders our relationship!
For I crave, the joy and contentment I previously possessed,
which softly undergirds our ongoing and eternal fellowship.

With Your Word hidden in my heart, I walk the “narrow path”,
since sin’s “broad path” leads only to one’s destruction.
Acting ungodly will always be a lost battle of the soul;
therefore, I cling onto Your Salvation and Resurrection…

with a proper mindset and complete surrender to You!
Self-centeredness is unhealthy to my soul’s existence;
therefore, I’m determined to purposely seek oneness with You,
while forgoing the proverbial path… of least resistance.







Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Ezek 11:19; 1 John 3:9-14; 2 Cor 4, 5:17; Rev 3:19;
Phil 3:10, 4:12; Gal 2:20, 6:10, 12-15; 1 Tim 5:6, 6:6-7;
1 Thes 5:15; 1 Cor 13; Mark 8:34; Matt 6:10, 33

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

Whenj he shaikd I wasd not normilo I sad .
Feel insid I nit cirroct, thes maks me seddingtew
The bigg men ssai no tome, I lik deck en mi battem’
Wen je sai I soo sed I cri evy dai of aprel.

Wun dai I weas sed I mad mislef dei of rabbes
Wen I med dog hee *** do sed wot I dei
Hee tel me to no bee dei anymooor
Bow I em fin adn a shappy preson.

I’m casting my cares upon You,
while praying throughout the day.
I’m thankful for our relationship
and the Love of Your sacred sway

that permeates my entire being.
For I’ll keep on talking to You,
discussing the issues of my life,
since You will bring me through

safely by Your divine guidance.
In You alone, faith is entrusted,
as this analytical mindset of mine
had been vigorously readjusted.

Knowing that You’re everywhere,
I’ll remain… unceasing in prayer!
.
.
.
Author Notes

Loosely based on:
Psa 42; 1 Thes 5:16-18; 1 Pet 5:6-7;
John 16:13; Eph 3:16

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

With nothing to prove
and no one to impress,
it was my Godly mindset
that lowered my stress.

With an identity in Him,
I found absolute Love,
with His grace and mercies
flowing from Heaven above.

From minding my work
and my own business,
it became much easier
to joyfully confess…

that Biblical principles
were successful for Christ;
so my truest ambition
is to lead a quiet life.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Lam 3:22-32; 1 Thes 4:11

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

The world is in a sickening state.
Wars rage through once beautiful and peaceful lands
Stripping them of dignity, personality, and strength.
Some parts of the world are still left unseen.
Left without crucial aid to those who die uneedingly to polotic's hands.

As I watch the news or read a worn out second hand magazine
As I read as I sit and I wait for appointments or my friends to join me for dinner.
Questions arise as to why the world must remain so devided?
If the world were to compromise on pride, polotics, and expectations...
If its' citizens were allowed to unite
Simply to aid with a true and helping hand....
Oh what a beautiful and productive place this Earth could be.

Wars would not be needed out of disputes and economic starvation
Discrimination could be abolished when we see how each one of us isn't so different.

We all suffer the same and we all are blinded by pride, greed, and power.
Alas, if only thes human souls could see past their heavy and set ways..

Beyond cold polotics and being united in common grounds..
Of being Human and caring about the rest falling due to such problems..

Removing the hassles of blinding self-centered needs and the powerful wishing to stay as such...

Then this world would and could be a united and beautiful place.
I know I am only dreaming....
However, some dreams were made to come true.

What is an artist?
How are they difined?
Do they have more heart?
Do they have more mind?

An artist is a riddler,
As clever as can be.
They mearly take the things in their head,
And make it so you can see.

An artist is a painter,
Thier work's were colors are teaming.
Pastel or black and white,
If you look between the lines, you'll find a different meaning.

An artist is a designer,
Diverse in their crafts.
From boats, to planes, to shinning stars,
The possibilities are vast.

The meaning of this is simple,
Art isn't something that is made.
For art is alive, and it shall strive,
It's pure emotion will not fade.

All thes statements are true and more,
But missing one last thing.
For to make true art, you need a heart,
For with with soul your art shall sing.

every day is new but my anger grows. when it turns into night my psychoticness grows stronger. one of thes days im going to snap and go psychotic on thos who wasted my time.

but anger is one thing but ill never go insane  on any one who dont **** me off
good day

Christina was an angel.
A miracle which was extinguished way before it's time.
I expressed to her, my last message, sadly.
"You lit my fire to fuel my soul. you cared for my music and heart
I Love you and shall be your rock.. your wall of deep and respectful support."
I heard the ending of her miraculous invention , brought to life, "Which was her soul and music."
I felt my once huge and loving heart, break into a thousand pieces. It is still hurting, quite badly.
I felt a needle of emotional medicine from Christina's fall, it had stabbed me in the chest, and it has numbed my feelings that were awe inspired by her.
Just as I had admitted to her that I was falling in love with her beautiful heart, friendship, and sweet music.
The evil reaper
took this "part of me" that she had been in addition to, away.
My heart was, then too burried with her still beating heart.
My clock stopped. I felt the best, of me, sink with her last breaths, in quicksands of the oppressors.
such sank my creative spirit to depressive and unfeeling depths, in thes sands of lost time, quite still deeper.
i have cried inside rains of shock.
i felt the winds cease and the sonic boom of defeat's  sounds
of the winds of ill fated  changes
stop my creative and artistic heart
from beating.
My care and inspiration from Christina Grimmie, the kindness that drew me from my own near self suicidal demise..
her kind and uplifting hand that lifted my spirits from dark depths...
Such love to me, a newly met stranger, saved my own artistic soul.
It was a destructive and hateful nuclear bomb of destructive mass
that now has no measurable size.
I shall honor the beautiful and gentle soul, which still talks and sends love to me, at my darkest of times....
Such saved myself from defeating her truer propose
of higher and kinder purposes...
and her angel wings swooped down from above.
She saved me from my own ruin as I honored her true name.
"The sweet Bird of A winged Pure Heart"
That flies and watches over all she truly loved and cherished
In eternal life after the physical realm , which we assume is our ends of our existence in life, she showed her oppressors that her demise was her extended beginning.
She shall be within my heart..
Worth more than gold and fame.
As her spirit shall forever love and guide me
to a more beautiful song and dance in my life
She still is my roaring and burning loving flame.

Christina was an angel.
A miracle which was extinguished way before it's time.
I expressed to her, my last message, sadly.
"You lit my fire to fuel my soul. you cared for my music and heart
I Love you and shall be your rock.. your wall of deep and respectful support."
I heard the ending of her miraculous invention , brought to life, "Which was her soul and music."
I felt my once huge and loving heart, break into a thousand pieces. It is still hurting, quite badly.
I felt a needle of emotional medicine from Christina's fall, it had stabbed me in the chest, and it has numbed my feelings that were awe inspired by her.
Just as I had admitted to her that I was falling in love with her beautiful heart, friendship, and sweet music.
The evil reaper
took this "part of me" that she had been in addition to, away.
My heart was, then too burried with her still beating heart.
My clock stopped. I felt the best, of me, sink with her last breaths, in quicksands of the oppressors.
such sank my creative spirit to depressive and unfeeling depths, in thes sands of lost time, quite still deeper.
i have cried inside rains of shock.
i felt the winds cease and the sonic boom of defeat's  sounds
of the winds of ill fated  changes
stop my creative and artistic heart
from beating.
My care and inspiration from Christina Grimmie, the kindness that drew me from my own near self suicidal demise..
her kind and uplifting hand that lifted my spirits from dark depths...
Such love to me, a newly met stranger, saved my own artistic soul.
It was a destructive and hateful nuclear bomb of destructive mass
that now has no measurable size.
I shall honor the beautiful and gentle soul, which still talks and sends love to me, at my darkest of times....
Such saved myself from defeating her truer propose
of higher and kinder purposes...
and her angel wings swooped down from above.
She saved me from my own ruin as I honored her true name.
"The sweet Bird of A winged Pure Heart"
That flies and watches over all she truly loved and cherished
In eternal life after the physical realm , which we assume is our ends of our existence in life, she showed her oppressors that her demise was her extended beginning.
She shall be within my heart..
Worth more than gold and fame.
As her spirit shall forever love and guide me
to a more beautiful song and dance in my life
She still is my roaring and burning loving flame.

In accordance with almost everyone, there are martyr ice crystals encrusting themselves around the stills of my parted lips, cutting like fibre glass and staining in silence
(As if they've ever cared at all).
The blue, it has begun to creep across my cheeks in a rush, letting my eyelids rest in a salted fury.

I've grown tired of worldly visions and contriving plans to save treason from contradiction and they now say it's time to push the stop button. Simplicity caught in the threads of a sequence - let's just add another scuff to our clean slate, shall we?

According to the honeysuckle lip lock you're playing on, I don't deserve to clutch the pink mass of flesh that is stuck between my striving jaws, so I should just gnash my teeth just like I'm getting paid to screech like a wild animal and chew it off in that ****** fashion I've developed from years and years of grovelling on monolithic stretches of asphalt
(Hidden beneath the feet of statues).
After all, my skin is cream without mar and the crimson tides that would spill from this cavity-ridden pothole would contrast my charade in the most lovely of manners.

But then again there are the extra ones left over, like you for example.

You press your face to cold glass and tell me that you'll always listen intently, and I just hope that your actions won't flatten you out. You fasten the phone to your ear and tell me that you'll always be here unchanging.. But I whisper so quietly and yell so loudly I'm afraid someday you'll hang up without looking back. You glance into my eyes like I'm sacred, and tell me that you'll always have something to say to make nothing else significant but the textures falling from your vocal chords... But you know what you've gotten yourself into.

In accordance to your belief my mouth is wildfire through a dead forest and I should open it up a little more to get rid of the rot in its way. Without us thes fertile soils won't birth the parking lot grasses for us to run through like nobody's business, and I've always loved losing my breath. When we get there you say that we'll watch terra cotta and french rose invade our cheekbones in the most complimentary of styles, and then you'll  fold promises like origami and force them into the vices of my fists
(As I pound my hands into the walls to try to tame my screaming emotions)
But cherish them I do, and I favour you just the same.

They say tiny water particles clustered in suspension are no place to hang up my brain stem for the evening, however you and I think otherwise and I have this funny little quirk that happens to involve listening to everything
(You have to think).

on the edge of etch: letters appear but disappear
without sound -
       tumultus origins of English, as a tongue,
later a people: a letter to the people -
outsourcing the orthodox passing of meaning
without hieroglyphs -
as the Polynesians did for almost six thousand
years when they set off without horses:
or rather with the horses of waves and the winds
across the great plateau of the Pacific ocean...

zahn schleifen liebe: tooth grinding love

       'ōlelo:                 word (language)

palapala:                       letter

          kani:                   sound

face:            maka

            ki'i:                         image

huikau: hybrid:         hiatus of haikus...

on the edge of an etch - apostrophes aplenty and
like reimagining Hawaiian as English
with two consonants: but'ter
            plo'tter - no, not plot'ter

per time: manawa: rather manava -
and Minerva: time spent executing an Olson typography
oh how apostrophes '
      fell to the earth of the linear winding of meaning
in sentences and became punctuation marks
of words in paragraphs rather than poetic cascades
of line: anew...

       J          'ot         down on the edge:
              Ed-ward googled his own name,
some Edward, ed-gear: but that's the eDGe
   i.e. by sound dictation: shion... dicta-shion
   Ej
                        jacket ej

     as with etch:             the visible T yet not really
uttered, sort of bypassed, and heart drowning in
clearly: English is prone to dyslexic fancies
because clearly some letters submerge...

   four tao's of the thai tau:

         the ouroborus no longer eating itself...

                                    T
                                 T † T
                                    T

or perhaps to ask Andrew and the Edinburgh Greeks:

                                 T. T
                                   X
                                T.   T

i can say much more about Edinburgh than Dublin,
safe to say: concerning these two cities
of the former a bad case of trainspotting
and low tides of culture -
   while Dublin, markedly not on the maps
of meaning of the one map that is the Union Jack(et)
since... the Irish did not fare well
with flags associated to cross-bearing marches
across the desert...

               that is i on the guillotine that's ι -
i hardly think it was a common courtesy of the romans
to go all out spectacular for an added head
recliner upon reaching Golgotha:

     how † was actually a T - because that year
it was even cold in Jerusalem so extra firewood was
needed...
and once the deed was done you think that
they didn't use the crosses for fuel in the garrison?
i can just imagine the incense of blood soaked wood
enraging the nostrils of the centurions...

truly, as i were there: in ghost...
      
   ah... only yesterday i picked up a revised hunger
for *******:
hence the zahnschleifenliebe...
   because i have already buckled on loving her
by grinding my front teeth to the point
of chipping one of them...

teeth like butter-softness
   niho niho: no plural? how about
tooth is niho and teeth are nihi?
   so much for a people talking but not writing...
can you imagine: is the nouns became bankrupt
i.e. if someone forgot the name
of a name, so that the word mea - thing was conjured?

what's a waapa?          a boat? not a wa'apa?

oh 'a'ohe mea -              yesthing for nothing
that's ae'              a'ole        no yes no no yes yes no
oh nothing, nothing...

        'olu'olu 'a'ohe mea: sweet nothing -
for a something: kekahi mea...

tribunal of pirates and vagabond burping barbarians:
yes, no word for wig...
kāpiki - cabbage - kapusta in ****** -
who helped conjure up an anti-etymology
for the Hawaiians?      'ōlelo as distinct from
kanaka - a language but not the people...

   kai kanaka - sea people...

'ōmato               (potato)
                  'ūala         (tomato)        

potato toe: manamana wāwae 'ūala
although it is not an assurance to conjure a translation
in that order: and not toe potato...
which would imply: french fries, no?
chips...

            mahina: that is moon and machinery
maszyna - to imply the tides were settled in the minds
and the moon was the machine behind
the phenomenon?
i clearly must be looking at something akin
to cross pollination, etymologically speaking...

you take a word from greek and fuse it with
latin then sprinkle some german or dutch
onto it and you arrive at English...
   not always... greek for orthodoxy still intact
with words like etymology, lexicon and:
well obviously little differences from the original
but most still intact...

talofa! foliga fiafia!
that would be me, being dragged out of darkness
of bad dreams falling out of bed talking
to someone in my sleep...
don't ask me how or for that matter why:

                          is                                      is

two ises ensure that there isn't an isn't...
             or at least that's how it might feel for
a Japanese samu samu rai rai
    visiting these islands...
comparatively an Englishman in Lithuania...
or Latvia...
                      moderately compared cultural differences...
    how will
i ever return to those islands and that Lā

                 to the place where a syllable has meaning
or rather a noun status...
ther-                  thermometer...
one moment less: per tier of integer           mother's
ether...

                             Fern...   ꟻ labours with Theta at
taught thought fabulously... by speaking first...
then listening, then observing, finally scribbling
sound-encoding to reach meaning (:expansive)

because i had to watch ******* yesterday
  because pleasing myself using pictures of you is
like trying to scratch an itch that soon becomes
something either artistic or philosophical...
artistically philosophical: an aesthetic...
that's the meaning of aesthetics:  
                  
i perceive AIS -          eyes
    thes-pain                   thespian
                                              the theta i see...
a letter that became a cheese that became...
surely from the Medieval ages onwards
   it was well established that gold was not really worth
what it was supposedly worth...
since the end of the wooden wheel...
    rubber... rubber and salt... to preserve the meats
to give us culinary ambitions...
                        rubber, salt, morphine, love

and money: to get out of each other's way...
i like money as a concept and as a practicality...
to get out of each other's way...
     and yet to somehow make this life bearable...
money: as means of getting out of each other's way...

ah but still, love... that challenging aspect of life,
for a wish to not write about it,
yet still, unbearably writing about it,
covertly, like so.

Welcome!
Look thes pikcha wicenci
Altugeda of tu mi
You cen solmi ol tu you
Of thes indi al de de

Go may mase all bibek
You consol tu mi of you
Senks tu you ol bi tu muv
You ol rait tu bak olgan

Old of skul tumorov win
You of mi tu geda skrin
All tu you of con su mi
You col mi of rait tu get

Thankyou cold tu you ol bak
Facin pipl go tu bread
Saka yaka faca book
Tu you more mizi ***

Yagargan tu scul algan
You of **** mi lang ol rait
Cam bek brad of kiss may as
You cool mi tu geda siks

Tegar tuga tyga
Can the people of cos
Song you diya to more
You of picture cos

You of milk to yugal
Tayger olg to of mi
Global ops you can dead
Cosme ofs you can mi

Global opzis you dead
Cool mi coseng to you
Kiss mi bebe oyo
There ayel turgan yul

Thes is saya tatar
Long to mather to mi
Set you gone tu yaly
Oldinda burgany

Com you bebe alga
To yaly burga tur
Aly yaly turgan
Zamany Tamerlan

GOTUDERAT